


Sins of the Savior

by grayscay



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anti-Sokovia Accords, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Civil War Team Captain America, He just needs a push in the right direction, Hurt Sam Wilson, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Wanda Maximoff, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Not Tony Stark Friendly, Other, Pro Team Cap, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, Steve Rogers & Thor Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Team as Family, The Raft Prison (Marvel), Tony gets better, Tony had a lot to make up for, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, Wanda Maximoff and Steve Rogers Friendship, because enhanced people deserve rights, but tread a little carefully, not really that much gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27659806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayscay/pseuds/grayscay
Summary: After being gravely injured in Siberia by Iron Man, Steve and Bucky are taken back to the Raft, where the other Avengers are being kept. Clint's family is nowhere to be found, and Wanda is struggling with her imprisonment.Ross has plans for the UN, and tries to twist the Avengers to do his bidding.Old foes are rising, and the world is quickly catching on fire.It's time for Team Cap to save the world, or die trying.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Scott Lang & Peter Parker, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! I've been thinking about this for quite some time, but never actually got around to posting it! 
> 
> Ok, I first just tagged this 'not Team Iron Man friendly,' but writing a long, petty fic doesn't sound fun, so this story IS going to be anti-Accords, and Tony is gonna be annoying the first few chapters, but he'll have some development, since my main problem with him in the MCU is that he never learns from his mistakes. Hope thats okay!
> 
> This whole situation will probably take a handful of chapters to articulate, so try and be patient!
> 
> Enjoy!

Steve Rogers never thought he'd be stuck in a cage, wearing a straightjacket and a shock collar, yet here he was. 

The florescent lighting in the cell flickered between white and orange, depending on the hour. He had no idea what time it was, if it was day or night, but he had been counting the hours, and he'd probably been here for about 36. 

God, he hated the Government so much.

Under normal circumstances, he'd be awaiting trial, but these weren't exactly normal circumstances. And he wasn't your normal, everyday criminal.

Criminal.

Steve let out a soft chuckle. Of course, he'd broken the law before (under quite a few instances that he was proud of), but it was a whole new level to be prosecuted by the federal government. It was quite exciting. 

Footsteps sounded above him, and Steve's head shot up quickly. The collar buzzed with electricity, and he froze, not wanting to get shocked again. He'd fought with all his might to try and escape after first being trapped here, but there were too many guards, the Raft was too heavily enforced, and he was without his precious shield. Of course, there were also the other Avengers, and he'd rather die than leave them all here. Ross probably had Wanda under tight surveillance too, considering his track record of illegal treatment against the Enhanced, and Ross was probably feeling petty that Steve's team had evaded capture for so long. The Accords would grant him complete and total control over the other Avengers, but it wasn't the other Avengers that Ross wanted. Even Wanda could be shuffled to the side. Ross wanted the Serum, wanted Steve, and by god would he rip the super-soldier into pieces to get it. 

THAT had been what Steve was afraid of. Being a complete puppet, a tool, in someone like Ross's grand scheme of things. Being completely unable to make choices for himself, being treated like a lab rat and a dancing monkey, just because an older man had decided to steal the Serum’s benefits for himself. 

The Accords had been nothing but a way for Ross to legally trap as many Enhanced Individuals as he possible could and try to make himself the superior human being. He wasn’t as bad as Schimdt, but he was up there. 

Heavier footsteps sounded down the corridor outside Steve’s cell. There was a thick metal door separating his row of cells from the outside hallway, and the sound of about six people mulling on the other side of the door was evident. 

The Raft’s thick metal walls were designed so that any regular human being wouldn’t be able to hear anything outside of his/her containment area, but Steve wasn’t a regular human. His enhanced hearing picked up every small sound or movement from the prison. 

But, of course, Ross didn’t know that yet. Steve assumed he would probably ramp up security as soon as he found of about his enhanced senses, but no matter. He could have his fun. 

The metal door slid open with a beep and a creak. Thaddeus Ross entered, followed by five guards. The old man looked smugger than Steve had ever seen him, and he met his snake-like eyes with an equally cold expression. 

“Rogers.” Ross said, in a terse tone. 

“Mister secretary.” Steve replied. 

Ross approached the mixture of glass and steel bars surrounding the Captain. His eyes flickered across Steve’s body, the way he was leaning carefully against the wall to avoid attacked by the guards, the way he held his head high even though he was clearly trapped, the way his neck was tilted at an angle as to avoid the electric shocks. 

“Enjoying ourselves?” The Secretary of State asked. 

“Well, I’d probably invest in nicer walls. They’re terribly tacky. And the furniture design is horrible.” Steve said, trying to draw the conservation out longer, to see if Ross dropped any hints about where his friends where. 

God, he couldn’t let them hurt Bucky or Wanda. 

“Still regained your sense of humor, I see.” Thaddeus smirked. “I’m sure we can fix that.” 

Steve said nothing. He was scanning through the guards facial expressions, wondering if he could recognize any of them, or if they gave any sort of clues about the outside situation. Steve decided to take a long shot, and asked, 

“Where are the other Avengers?”

Ross laughed. “Oh, those rule-breakers? Being taken care of, just like you will be.”

Steve’s mind raced. They obviously hadn’t been transferred out of the Raft yet. They were still here, which meant Wanda and Bucky were probably being held in isolation wards, like him. Scott, Sam and Clint might all have separate cells too, but it was unlikely. They weren’t considered “special” enough for Ross to pay much interest in them. However, Scott and Clint had families. Families could be used as bargaining chips. Was that how Ross had tracked Steve and Bucky down to Siberia? Threatened Clint’s wife or Scott’s daughter? Clint’s family was supposed to be secret, of course, but secrets could get out. Scott had mentioned that his daughter, Cassie, was living with her mom, so it would probably have taken longer than a few hours to find her. And even if they had, how could they have figured out that Scott was Ant-Man? From all the chatter that Steve had picked up on the last few years, it was Hank Pym that was supposedly still the Ant-Man. Scott had said that Pym knew he was borrowing the suit, but Steve had the suspicions that he was lying. Of course, Steve hadn’t pointed that out, because how many times had he lied to protect other people? The list kept on going. Scott was a good egg, he could be sure of that. 

But the question was still how had they managed to track Bucky and Steve to Siberia? 

There was a more unpleasant answer, but Steve had pushed that thought to the back of his head. Tony wouldn’t sell them out, right? I mean, he had gone a little crazy after the footage of his parent’s death had been found, but that was just a heat of the moment reaction, surely? He would never actually try to harm Steve. Steve had assumed that Tony knew Bucky was responsible for Howard and Maria’s death. The information had been out since 2014, and Tony was a technical genius. Steve had guessed that Tony had already watched the tape and knew that HYDRA had ordered the Starks death. But apparently not. Steve felt horrible because of that. Someone should have brought it up to Tony, but he never really wanted to push on that button. Talking about the potential murder of your mom and dad was a sore spot. 

This train of thought all flashed by in a few seconds, and Steve was still lost in his own head when Ross started speaking again.

“Listen, Rogers, this is all going to be easier if you just don’t struggle and come with us quietly. These shock batons have enough strength to give a normal human a heart attack eight times over. I’d hate to see what they do to you.”

Steve still didn’t respond. The five guards hadn’t moved, and they were all just a little bigger than him. If they removed his straitjacket, he could knock out the first two, smash down the third one’s head, and take out the last two with his legs, but there was also the worry that if he tried to escape at any point, Ross would hurt his friends. There were also probably more than five guards in the whole prison. 

He wouldn’t escape now. He would need to find out where his friends were, and the situation of their capture. 

The door to his cell unlocked, and the two largest guards stepped forward and pulled him up. The one on his right, a tall, buff man, held up a baseball bat sized stick that crackled with electricity. 

“No sudden movements.” He said in a low voice. 

They dragged him out into the hallway, making twists and turns every few steps. The Raft was a lot bigger than he originally thought it was. At some point, he was sure he heard Sam’s voice talking a few doors down, but he didn’t struggle. There was no point in trying to get to Sam when he might just be punished anyways. 

They continued on for a few more minutes, the guards holding him tightly, when a shrill, feminine scream sounded from the hallway to his right. 

Steve recognized it immediately.

Wanda. 

“WANDA.” He yelled, jerking his body against the guard on the left, and kicked the man’s legs out from under him. 

Oh god no what are they doing to her I never should have let her leave oh no no no no no she’s just a kid goddammit

More guards filtered in from the open doors, grabbing him and shoving him down. He called for Wanda again, rearing himself back and taking out another few of the guards. Something hit his neck, hard, and darkness swallowed him up.

His first conscious realization was that his limbs were trapped. Steve tried to jerk his arms up, but they were only met by cold metal. He blinked, once, twice, and this eyes slowly began to adjust to the cold, hard florescent lighting. There were metal clamps around his arms, legs, torso and neck, and his shirt had been removed. The back of his neck ached from where he had been hit. 

He was in a different cell this time. The guards had obviously moved him after they knocked him out, but, more importantly, what had they done with Wanda. 

During the last few years, Steve had grown extremely close with the young Sokovian girl. He saw a lot of him inside her, and that made him feel a little better about being alone in this new century. He’d taught her how to read and speak English, while she’d given him something even better: a friend. 

Steve was short on friends these days. He’d always felt close with most of the original Avengers, excluding a certain billionaire. Tony had never liked Steve, and made it very clear every time they had gone on mission together. Whether it was making fun of Steve for not understanding a pop culture reference, or just being flat out rude, Steve knew that Tony would never be able to see Steve as anything more than a dumb, flag-wearing old man tights. 

That was not to be said for the others, however. Steve had grown close with Natasha and Clint, following the battle of New York, and they were often tasked with special OPS missions together. Thor had routinely spent more time with Steve as well, and it had felt nice to have someone who also felt alone in a new world. Bruce was a lot quieter than the others, but Steve was actually grateful for that. Bruce never asked him questions about the war, or pleaded for stories about the Howling Commandos. The doctor was more interested in Erskine and the serum than anything, and Steve liked that. They’d often just end up in the same room together, not really saying much, but enjoying each other’s company. 

Steve was so lost in his memories that he didn’t even notice the footsteps drawing closer to him until the metal door slid open. He tried to jerk his head around, but the metal clamps made that impossible. However, he was able to see the tray of spare surgical equipment, the table with paper and research, and the big monitors that indicated blood pressure and heart rate. 

He was in a lab. 

Steve assumed that Ross had been the one to open the door, but it was another oldish-looking man, with a white doctor’s robe and latex gloves. There was a horrible hunger in the doctor’s eyes as he looked down at Steve, and the soldier felt distinctly uncomfortable. 

“Captain.” The doctor purred, walking over to one of the monitors. He tapped a few keys, and the monitor lit up. Steve jerked his mouth open to respond, but nothing came out. His vocal cords felt paralyzed. 

Well that wasn't good. 

The doctor turned back to Steve and touched his neck, feeling for a pulse. Steve threw his head back, jerking out of his grip, but the doctor grabbed something from the table next to him and jabbed it into his stomach.

The pain was so sudden and so utterly horrible that it took Steve a few seconds to even register he was being shocked. He choked and shuddered, struggling to breathe, and the doctor sighed. 

“Now let’s not do that again, please? I hate having to use that.”

He placed the shock baton down onto the table, next to a whole clutter of medical equipment. The door beeped open again, and three more nurses entered the lab. He was so distracted by the newcomers that he didn't notice the old man had grabbed a syringe from the tray of equipment. There was a sharp pinprick in his neck, and darkness grabbed ahold of him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the quick, sloppy writing! I'll have a better chapter soon, I promise. I'm also writing a few heartwarming new fics that'll hopefully be out soon!

If you had asked Bucky Barnes to pick between HYDRA or the US government, he would have picked the Nazi's any day. 

His mind was a staggering mess of worn-out memories, fuzzy pictures and people that didn't make sense, but he was sure he remembered the Russians being a hell of a lot gentler with him than these new doctors. 

He was strapped down in a chair, one a little too much like the memory-wiping chair that HYDRA had used on him. His limbs were clamped down, but what was left of his metal arm was being poked and prodded by a handful of confused-looking men and women in white coats. Every time they jabbed his stump of an arm with a metal stick, it sent a new wave of pain and discomfort up his nervous system. One of the doctors, a younger women, was speaking in hushed tones with another doctor who was monitoring Bucky's vitals on a screen. 

"Does the arm cause him pain?" The women asked, "Does it not feel pain?"

"I'm right here, doll, you can ask me." Bucky replied. Seeing all the doctors jump back like they were surprised he could talk was satisfying, and Bucky let the ghost of a smile flicker across his lips.

"The Winter Soldier." One of the doctors said, taking in a deep breath. "I had no idea you still had a brain."

Amazingly, at that exact moment, Bucky's mind flashed back to an old movie he and Stevie had watched, long before the hell of war had begun. 

It had been a horribly hot Summer. The heat was sweltering, and Bucky couldn't wait until the cooler months came. Steve had taken up a job as an apprentice for a small business art store downtown. There wasn't a lot of money to go around, but Steve was enjoying himself and they weren't starving. Sarah Rogers had died a few years back, and Steve had lied about his age to the Orphanage, so he was currently living in Bucky's apartment. Bucky knew how much he hated the Orphanage, hated the caregivers and the structure and the other kids there. 

"They don't like me." Steve had told Bucky once, a little bit of his Irish accent coming out behind the Brooklyn. 

"Aw, now come one, why would anyone not like you, Stevie?" Bucky had asked, earning a small smile from Steve. He'd been beaten up badly a few nights ago, and his eye was still black from where the bullies had hit him. 

"They say I talk funny." He'd replied, and Bucky had laughed. Of course Stevie talked funny. It was bad enough having an Irish accent underneath all that Brooklyn, but being able to speak in numerous different languages probably didn't help. Steve had spent hours and hours talking to himself, trying to mask the fact that he sounded different that all the other kids. It had worked. When they'd met, decades later, on the bridge, who the hell is Bucky, the first thing the Winter Soldier had thought had been 'well he's definitely American.'

Steve cared too much about what other people thought of him. 

And that was all the memory he was going to get today. He was jerked out of his mind by one of the doctors slapping him across the face. Hard. 

"What's your name?" She asked, staring intently into Bucky's eyes. 

There wasn't much leeway for him to say anything else, so he just replied, "James Buchanan Barnes."

The doctors turned away from him, whispering to themselves. 

"It's him-"

"Didn't think he knew how to-"

"What should we-"

"No, that's too-"

And on and on until Bucky would rather go back into cryofreeze than listen to them talk any seconds longer. 

But the door slid open and another doctor ran in. Panting, he cried, "The girl! She-"

All of the scientists heads shot up. Before Bucky could say anything, they had grabbed a syringe and were jabbing it into his neck. 

As he slipped into a deep sleep, he hoped that Steve and the Sokovian kid were okay.


End file.
